


And It Was Not Your Fault But Mine

by octothorpetopus



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Arguing, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Feels, POV Emily Prentiss, Parenthood, Song: Little Lion Man (Mumford & Sons)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octothorpetopus/pseuds/octothorpetopus
Summary: Hotch, Jack, and Emily have formed their own little family. So when Hotch says something he doesn’t mean during an argument, they’re left to rebuild what they had from the ground up.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	And It Was Not Your Fault But Mine

The day it begins, Emily is bringing in the last of the boxes from her apartment. Hotch’s apartment is bigger, it’s nicer (it doesn’t have her incredible view of the national mall, but that’s life), and most importantly, it’s where Hotch and Jack are. Right now, they’re sitting on the sofa while she pulls in the last cardboard box of her stuff.

“You could help, you know,” she says, mostly joking.

“Yeah, Jack, go help Emily.” Hotch nudges his son, who jumps off the couch and runs over to Emily.

“Alright, kiddo, you grab that side, and I’ll…” Wobbling, Jack and Emily teeter over to the already shoulder-high stack of boxes. “Aw, nice job, little man!” She crouches and high-fives the five-year-old who has become the closest thing she has to a son. “Hey, Jack, why don’t you look in that box over there?” He opens the flaps of the box she’s pointing at, and pulls out a folded-up scooter in a box. “So next time we go to the park, maybe you can try to keep up with Daddy on his bike.”

“Thanks, mom,” Jack says, and Emily almost faints. _Mom?_ He’s never called her that before, and she doesn’t quite know how to react. Her eyes dart over to Hotch, who hasn’t quite stopped smiling, but looks as if he wants to. Still, he doesn’t say anything.

“Come on, kiddo, it’s time for your nap.” He steers Jack into the hall, away from Emily, and when they’re both out of sight, she collapses onto the floor. What is she supposed to say to that? It shouldn’t be her job, it should be Hotch’s, but still, she feels wrong just letting her boyfriend’s son call her ‘mom’. They’ve been together since before she faked her death and moved to Paris, almost four full years, so it’s not like she hasn’t been involved in raising Jack. But she’s not his mother, and she’s never pretended to be. As someone who was practically raised by nannies, she’s fully aware that just reading bedtime stories, making lunches, putting band-aids on skinned knees, and sharing a bed with a child’s father isn’t enough to make someone a mother (that last one had caused a significant amount of childhood emotional trauma).

But when Hotch comes back from putting Jack down for his nap, he doesn’t say anything. He just smiles at her and opens up another box.

“I’m not sure I have enough cabinet space for your mug collection, Em.”

“Oh, really? But we have room for your stamp collection?”

“Fair.” He kisses the top of her head as he passes her into the kitchen. Things are as normal as ever, which doesn’t surprise Emily when she thinks about it. Hotch generally doesn’t let things get to him, she’s known that as long as they’ve worked together. She imagines that he talked to Jack as he was putting him down for his nap. That must be it, and he assumed Emily was on his same wavelength. Good. Emily wasn’t willing to let this be the thing that drove them, the closest thing she has ever had to a real, functional family.

And that’s the end of it, for a few weeks, anyway. Jack doesn’t call her ‘mom’ again, Hotch doesn’t bring it up, and the three of them are just like normal. Emily’s things slowly assimilate into the environment of the apartment, which she stops thinking of as Hotch’s apartment and more as their apartment. She grows used to walking to work with Hotch in the morning, which she was doing most of the time before anyway. She grows used to getting her coffee from the Starbucks at the end of the block instead of the coffee cart just outside her old apartment, and to taking the train instead of the bus because it’s faster. The one thing she does not grow used to is Hotch. That’s an oversimplification, she accepts his quirks and odd habits, but it’s funny- before they moved in together, Emily thought he might be more forthcoming about his feelings now that he couldn’t just leave when things got heavy. Still, after every argument, big or small, he just smiles that little tight-lipped smile, kisses the top of her head, and pretends like nothing happened.

“You know, Aaron, at some point, you’re going to have to actually resolve an issue instead of just waiting for the argument to fizzle out and then pretend like it didn’t happen,” Emily says one day. She had been bugging him about putting away his go bag in between cases, instead of just leaving it in the living room. They had argued for a few minutes (“It’s a matter of convenience, Em!” “Not really, you’re just being lazy.”) before he had just shook his head and started folding laundry.

“It’s not a big deal, Emily. Move my bag or don’t, I don’t really care either way.” Hotch shrugged, which frustrated her even more.

“Hotch, you can’t be apathetic on every single subject, and you can’t just give up when you get tired of arguing.”

“Why not? These things don’t really matter to me, and when they do, I’m okay compromising.”

“But we’re not compromising, Hotch, you’re just letting me do what I want and taking whatever feelings you have about it and shoving them down and pretending like nothing happened!” He blinks angrily (how that’s even possible, she’s not quite sure), and by now she can tell she’s under his skin.

“Emily, can we not do this? Can we-“ Emily groans and begins pacing.

“Yeah, Hotch, we have to do this! That’s the whole point! You keep saying ‘we’ll do this later’ and then we never do. I want to do this now. Let’s do it, let’s argue, and then when we’re done and we’ve reached an actual conclusion, we won’t have it hanging over our heads!” He stands now too, throwing down the laundry in his hands.

“Because it shouldn’t matter, Emily! I deal with things the way I deal with them, and if you don’t like it, well-“

“Hotch, it’s not me that I’m worried about!” He looks at her, puzzled. “I know you, I’ve known you for years, so I know how you deal with your feelings. And I’m a grown-up, so I can deal with it because I have my own way of dealing with my own feelings.”

“Emily, what the hell is your point?” He’s exasperated, exhausted, and she briefly considers not saying what she wants to say, but still, she says:

“Hotch, what is Jack going to think? If he grows up and instead of seeing his dad express his emotions and deal with his issues, he just sees you push your anger down? What kind of man is he going to grow up to be if he never learns how to feel, because you never taught him?” When she stops pacing and looks back at him, his face has gone deathly still. Narrowing his eyes, he thinks for a minute, and Emily thinks she’s never seen him so angry. Not at her, anyway. It’s a very quiet kind of anger, one that makes her feel cold even though the window is open and it’s 90 degrees outside.

“And why, exactly, do you think you have the right to tell me I’m raising my son wrong? Because, and correct me if I’m wrong, you have no kids. You have never, at any point in time, had kids. You don’t have the right to tell me how to raise my son, because he is my son. _My_ son. His mother was Haley Hotchner, formerly Haley Brooks. She died. Jack is my son, I am his father, and _you are not his mother!”_ Emily stumbles backwards a few steps, her eyes wide. In all the time they’ve been together, in all the time they’ve known each other, he’s raised his voice several times, but never _at_ her. He’s never yelled _at_ her. As soon as he’s finished, he knows what he’s done, he can see it. His hands come up between him and Emily, as if he’s trying to push himself away from her. “Em-“

“No. No.” Emily shakes her head.

“Emily, I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“You meant it.” She shakes her head and doesn’t quite smile. “You meant every word, Hotch. It’s okay.” She goes to grab her sweatshirt, then remembers how hot it is outside. That, more than anything, makes her want to cry. She’s already ruined her cool, clean walk-out now. Chin tucked against her chest, she brushes past his half-hearted efforts to stop her and leaves, not really sure where she’s going. First things first, she’s going to go get coffee from the cart outside her old apartment.

It’s late when Hotch finally finds her. She doesn’t know if he’s been looking for her all day or if he decided to let her have her space, but she has no new texts and no missed calls. She doesn’t turn to look at him when he sits down beside her, but keeps her eyes fixed on the Washington Monument, illuminated against the darkening sky.

“I’m sorry, Em,” he says finally. She doesn’t respond. “Emily, please. Look at me.”

“I’ve been thinking all day about what I would say to you when I saw you next.” Finally, she turned to face him, sharply wiping tears off her cheeks. “And I still have no idea what to say to you.”

“I’m sorry, Emily.”

“You keep saying that. But just because you’re sorry for hurting me doesn’t mean you didn’t mean what you said.” She sniffs, but composed herself. “Hotch, I know I’m not Jack’s mother. I’m not trying to replace Haley. But we’re a family, the three of us. An odd one, but a family. I take care of your son because I love him, and I love you. So while I might not have given birth to him, do not ever diminish the part I’ve taken in raising him since we got together. I’m not trying to replace Haley, but if you want us to live together, if you want me to be in his and in your life, you have to acknowledge that I have an amount of influence in his life, and I have the right to use that influence. I might not be Jack’s real mother, but I am the closest thing he has to a second parent.”

“I know. I was wrong.” Her eyebrows shoot up. Not at any point in her memory has she ever heard Hotch say anything like that. “Look, Em,” he says, hesitantly putting his hand over hers. “Haley is Jack’s mother, and she always will be. But you’re right. I want you to help me raise my son, and I haven’t given you enough credit for all you’ve done in the time we’ve been together. We are a family, and I had no right to tell you that you don’t get a say in his life, because you are his other parent, and if I marry you-“ her head snaps around to face him, eyes wide. “-which I’m not asking you to do now, but I would like to eventually, you will officially be his parent. I’m still hesitant to refer to you as his mother-“

“I don’t want to be his mother! He can have you, and Haley, and me as his parents.”

“And that’s exactly what we’ll do. He loves you, and I love you, and you should get a say in his life. And you were right that I don’t like to deal with my feelings. I’ll… well, I’ll work on that, but I make no promises.”

“That’s okay, Aaron.” She buries her head in his chest. “We have to work together. From now on, we’re a team.” He kisses the top of her head and then rests his chin on her shoulder.

“Agreed. It’s you, me, and Jack from here on out.”

“I’m good with that.” In the dim light from opposite ends of the National Mall, Emily inhales the crisp night air, mixed in with the smell of Hotch’s cologne, and sighs. Her family. It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?


End file.
